By Waleed Saidullah, Advocate High Court, Rawalpindi<\/p>\n
On a quiet evening last year, a young woman in Karachi answered the door and had her life destroyed in seconds. Her crime? Refusing a marriage proposal. Her attacker emptied a container of acid on her face. Her mother later described watching her daughter\u2019s skin melt like wax. This was not an isolated incident. It is a pattern that has repeated itself across Pakistan for decades \u2014 and it demands far more than what our institutions have so far been willing to deliver.<\/p>\n
Between 2005 and 2023, researchers confirmed 836 victims from 625 documented acid attacks across Pakistan. Between 2007 and 2018 alone, the Pulitzer Center reported 1,485 cases. The Acid Survivors Foundation (ASF) and the Smile Again Foundation both estimate that approximately 200 acid attacks occur in Pakistan every year most of them unreported. In 2024, Sindh police officially recorded only 12 cases in the province, a figure that barely scratches the surface of actual incidence. South Punjab, where acid is commercially used to clean cotton seeds and is therefore freely available in local markets, accounts for over half of all reported cases nationally.<\/p>\n
The victims are overwhelmingly women and girls targeted for refusing marriage proposals, for seeking divorce, for inheriting property, or simply for existing on terms that offended a man\u2019s sense of entitlement. Their suffering does not end with the attack. Survivors face extensive burns, blindness, respiratory complications, and permanent disfigurement, followed by depression, social stigmatisation, loss of livelihood, and the crushing weight of a legal system that moves too slowly to deliver justice.<\/p>\n
Pakistan enacted the Criminal Law (Second Amendment) Act, 2011, also known as the Acid Control and Acid Crime Prevention Act on December 26, 2011, prompted in part by suo motu proceedings of the Supreme Court. The legislation inserted Sections 336-A and 336-B into the Pakistan Penal Code, 1860, defining hurt caused by corrosive substances and prescribing punishment of imprisonment for not less than fourteen years, extendable to life, along with a minimum fine of Rs. 1,000,000. The offence was made non-bailable and non-compoundable under the Second Schedule of the Code of Criminal Procedure. A subsequent amendment further enabled courts to award the death penalty in cases of acid violence.<\/p>\n
Importantly, Section 336-B(2) empowers courts to direct accused persons to pay monetary compensation to victims covering medical expenses and loss of earnings. Acid crimes are also listed in the Third Schedule of the Anti-Terrorism Act, 1997 theoretically enabling trial before Anti-Terrorism Courts for speedy disposal.<\/p>\n
These are not insignificant provisions. Yet the legislation has not delivered the deterrence it promised. The highest number of reported cases in a single year 43 was recorded in 2016, five years after the law was enacted. The reason is straightforward: a law on paper is only as effective as the system that enforces it.<\/p>\n
The 2011 law addressed punishment but left the supply chain of acid almost entirely unregulated at the federal level. Battery acid can be purchased in informal markets across Pakistan for as little as fifty rupees. Sulphuric acid, hydrochloric acid, and nitric acid are readily available through chemical shops and automotive markets with virtually no documentation requirements. Punjab\u2019s Hazardous Substances Rules, 2018 set some labelling and storage standards, but enforcement in informal retail settings remains negligible.<\/p>\n
In a welcome development, the Punjab Assembly\u2019s Standing Committee on Home Affairs approved the draft Punjab Acid Control Act, 2025 in April of this year. This is the first comprehensive provincial legislation focused exclusively on regulating the sale, distribution, and use of acid. It mandates licensing for the sale of thirty highly corrosive chemicals, imposes liability on negligent sellers whose products are used in attacks, and provides for automatic cancellation of licences upon conviction under the relevant PPC provisions. This is precisely the kind of supply-side control that has been missing for over a decade, and it should be replicated federally and in all other provinces without delay.<\/p>\n
The experience of Bangladesh is instructive. Once among the worst-affected countries in the world for acid violence, Bangladesh enacted the Acid Crime Control Act, 2002 and the Acid Control Act, 2002 simultaneously addressing both the criminal and regulatory dimensions of the problem. Special tribunals were established for speedy trials. The result was a dramatic, sustained decline in attacks. Pakistan enacted its criminal law eleven years later but has yet to enact a comparable federal regulatory framework. The parallel is uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
The United Kingdom, confronting a surge in corrosive substance attacks in recent years, responded with specific legislation criminalising the possession of corrosive substances in public places, imposing age restrictions on purchase, and mandating identification at the point of sale. The lesson is consistent across jurisdictions: criminal penalties alone do not deter; access must be restricted upstream.<\/p>\n
Reform must proceed on four fronts simultaneously. First, regulate the supply chain. The Punjab Acid Control Act, 2025 must be passed into law without further delay, and the federal government must enact equivalent legislation covering all provinces and the Islamabad Capital Territory. Every sale of a concentrated corrosive substance must be documented, licensed, and traceable.<\/p>\n
Second, enforce the law that already exists. Section 336-B has been on the books since 2011, yet conviction rates remain dishearteningly low. Police training in evidence collection for acid crime cases must be standardised. Prosecutors must be equipped to handle the forensic and medical dimensions of these cases. The jurisdictional confusion between ordinary criminal courts and Anti-Terrorism Courts, which forces preliminary legal battles before any trial on merits can begin must be resolved by clear legislative guidance assigning exclusive jurisdiction.<\/p>\n
Third, protect and rehabilitate survivors. The state\u2019s obligation does not end with punishing the offender. Survivors require free emergency medical treatment, reconstructive surgery, psychological counselling, legal aid, vocational training, and reintegration support. A dedicated national fund, financed through fines collected under Section 336-B and mandatory contributions from acid manufacturers, should be established for this purpose. The Acid and Burn Crime Bill, 2018, applicable to the Islamabad Capital Territory provides a partial model by imposing obligations on hospitals to treat acid crime victims; this approach must be expanded nationally.<\/p>\n
Fourth, transform social attitudes. Legislation cannot reach the interior of a culture that normalises the use of violence to punish women for the exercise of choice. Religious scholars, educators, community leaders, and media organisations must be active partners in dismantling the patriarchal attitudes that treat acid as an instrument of control.<\/p>\n
Fourteen years have passed since Pakistan took its first serious legislative step against acid violence. The law that was passed was meaningful. But the woman in Karachi whose skin melted like wax is evidence that it has not been enough. What is required now is not incremental adjustment but systemic reform: stricter regulation, faster trials, robust victim support, and a culture that does not produce men who believe a woman\u2019s face is a legitimate target for their grievances.<\/p>\n
A state that is serious about Articles 9, 14, and 25 of its own Constitution cannot afford to treat acid violence as a residual concern. It must treat it as what it is \u2014 an ongoing emergency.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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